April 25, 2011

Barbara dies at fifty-five—the halfway point of the book. Meghan O’Rourke has up until now proceeded with the vitality of a first-rate dramatist and her mother is a character well suited to it, equipped with an irrepressible spirit and a Christmas Day death, on a bed in the middle of the living room (so that death will be less “bureaucratic and fluorescent”), breaking the heart of everyone.

You know, what I'm going to say now, don't you? It's not about death or Christmas or writing style.

I don't know if anyone else has had similar experience but these supposedly long lasting CFL bulbs have been regularly blowing out, much more often than handful of incandescents that are still holding up.

Yes, Salamandyr - I have noticed my CFL floodlights (can lights) burning out regularly. I am now replacing them, in turn, with incandescents and keeping a spreadsheet so I know which ones are the problem, and which ones are hanging in there.

One doesn't think about it much, but the tendency is for people to die indoors -- not necessarily after dark, mind you, but inside a structure -- and unless you're in a pavilion, that generally requires lighting fixtures. And, at least based on a fast read of "famous last words"-type lists (okay, so I have slightly macabre reading habits) the tendency of the dying is to ask for an increased, not lessened, illumination: "Light! More Light!" (Goethe); "Turn up the lights. I don't want to go home in the dark." (O. Henry). Personal experience, admittedly limited, supports this. So flourescent, incandescent, nasty blue-grey LED, choose your poison, gonna have to be something even if you're a romantic and into beeswax candles or oil lamps. (Know how much HEAT those little dudes put out in a small room? Give it some thought, and maybe a dry run, before you seriously plan on either of the latter expedients, just sayin'.)

k writes:I am now replacing them, in turn, with incandescents and keeping a spreadsheet so I know which ones are the problem, and which ones are hanging in there.***

Good God. A spreadsheet. k, I will blame YOU if this somehow becomes, say, a line item on Form 1040.

My house is cluttered with paper. Not books, all (well, most) of whom are living peacefully on shelves when not in actual use, but bureaucratic clutter. Every bill or official communication from the friendly Gov. seems to have an ever growing addendum of disclaimers, privacy notices, demands for corrections, updates, downgrades, public service notices, tracking data, or payment options.

Every bloody agency on the planet is behaving like a US High School teacher: Oh, I can add this little extra bit of work and it will have too small an effect to be noticed.

My father was an aviation safety expert. He concluded that many incremental safety systems in cockpits ultimately resulted in overall system breakdown, due to, basically, mental clutter.

"... equipped ... with a Christmas day death..."? I see your point about the potential ambiguity, but I don't really see anybody misunderstanding that. Do you?

Stylistically, it's awful. how does "equipped with" fit "death?"

BTW, Brian, incandescent is not green. Fluorescent is the new incandescent. But the real point is that th phrase is referring to dying in a hospital as opposed to her home, Nearly all hospitals are bureaucratic and use fluorescent lighting.

Still, you have to wonder why she doesn't use curly bulbs at home, and have in home nursing services paid for by Government health care, don't you?

My dad didn't want to die at home, he wanted the hospital. Mom wanted the hospital for him too. Hospitals are set up to deal with death.

Too many bad memories if it was in the house. She sold the house soon after anyway and got a condo in an over 55 community (6 packs and 4 packs, one story rows) instead so she wouldn't have to deal with outside maintenance.

When my grandfather died on Christmas at the age of 99 years and 9 months it really was weird. Just something about having a close relative die on that day. My dad went through a really prolonged illness and when he died on Turkey day it was like, "what is going on here, do I need to be frightened of holidays? Am I supposed to hate the fourth of July?